


The Dead Speak

by Katliger



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Ben is a Sad Boy, F/M, Finn is Thanatos, Hades and Persephone, Rey is Hades, Suicide, Undead, adventure to save the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katliger/pseuds/Katliger
Summary: Ben Solo decides to end his life. But it looks like he’s not dying. When a mysterious woman named Rey appears suddenly in the middle of his suicide, she tells him that Death has been capture by an escapee of Tartarus and nobody can die. Together they go on a quest to rescue Death and bring back the balance of life and death.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	The Dead Speak

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this idea forever, but after seeing TROS I’ve decided to stop putting it off. I’m still updating my other fic, but I just had to do this.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: suicide and mentions of suicide. This thing opens with Ben trying to kill himself and it’s pretty integral to the story. Please don’t read if this will harm your mental health.

Crimson ribbons of blood ran down Ben Solo’s wrists slowly. Too slowly. There was pain, but Ben hardly noticed as he slumped down onto the floor and leaned against the bathtub. He was starting to feel drowsy, the blade he used to slice his wrists slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. 

If he had any regrets about his decision to end his life, he didn’t allow himself to feel them. What did he have left anyway? His parents were dead. The uncle he had looked up to all his life was also gone. A job that made him miserable and soulless. No friends to speak of. Ben really didn’t have anything to live for. 

So he sat on the cold tile and waited to die. He felt his body going colder, not yet the same temperature as the floor. Ben let his head fall back against the edge of the tub and waited to die. 

But it was taking longer than Ben anticipated. It had to have been over an hour by now. And while he still felt cold, the drowsiness and heaviness of his body was beginning to dissipate. He let out a deep sigh.

“I can’t even die correctly,” he muttered to the empty bathroom. 

“You’re not dying,” an accented voice said to his left, from the wall opposite from the bathroom door. Ben started, quickly lifting his head from the tub towards the direction of the voice. 

A woman leaned against the wall watching him. Her brown hair was up in three buns at the back of her head and she wore a sapphire blue sundress. Hazel eyes roamed over him, starting at his wrists. 

Ben had never seen her before, but most puzzling was how she got into his bathroom without him noticing. 

“What do you mean I’m not dying? That was kind of the point of this,” he raised one bloodied wrist from the floor. 

“I mean you’re not dying. If you were, there would be no way you could lift your arm. Something is stopping your death,” the brunette woman responded. 

In two quick steps, she crossed the room and crouched next to him. Without looking up at him, she grabbed his wrist, turning it over in her slender fingers to examine the cut. It had already stopped bleeding. After a moment of studying his mangled flesh, she gently laid his arm back down. Ben watched her the whole time with rapt attention, convinced that in his dying state he had conjured a beautiful woman to be by his side in his last moments. Fitting, but sad for him. 

“Well, you should be dead by now, but here you are, clearly not dead. So what does that tell you?” she asked slapping her knee with the heel of her hand. 

Ben shook his head, “I don’t know, that I couldn’t even kill myself properly?” 

The woman frowned, “No, the cuts are fine. Under normal circumstances, you would be pretty dead. Though just so you know, I’m not a fan of suicides, they are uninvited guests in my realm, harder to prepare for. But what it should tell you is that something very wrong has happened to Death.” 

Ben shook his head, confused, “I don’t understand. Who are you?” 

The woman stood up gracefully and held her hand out to Ben. He hesitated before gingerly reaching out his own hand and allowing himself to be pulled from the ground. Despite her small stature, most people were smaller than Ben anyway, she pulled him up with surprising strength. 

“Oh! I’m Hades, Lord of the Underworld. But since we’re topside, just call me Rey, it’s my fun human name,” she still had his hand in her own, so she shook it.

“You’re not what I would expect to be Hades,” he was definitely hallucinating. This was definitely not how he expected dying to be like.

The woman, Hades or Rey or whatever, made a noise through her nose, “That’s because all the old stories were written by men. So of course the god of the Underworld has to be a man.” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

She studied him for a moment and he looked back at her with confusion.

“How are you feeling?” She asked with what sounded like genuine concern.

Ben shrugged his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. He stopped short when he caught sight of his wrist.

Thrusting both arms out in front of himself he stared down hard at the cuts he had made. They were mostly closed, no longer bleeding. The slashes were pink instead of the bright red they should be. 

His eyes flicked up to Rey’s, “How?”

Rey sighed, “It’s as I feared. It means that the god of death is incapacitated and cannot ferry souls to the banks of the Styx. Brilliant. Just brilliant. Good job, Finn!”

“I still don’t understand what’s going on,” Ben asked staring once again at his wrists. 

Small cold hands, colder than even his own body, covered the cuts on his wrists. He looked up into hazel eyes. “Long story short, this bad guy Palpatine managed to escape Tartarus and found his way back to the human world. Judging by your state of not-death, I can assume that he has bound my friend Finn, god of death using the chains that were meant to bring Palpatine back to the Underworld. So no death good, no humans actually dying. Which is bad for business for me.” 

She released his wrists and stepped away, back to the shadows of the corner. “Well, I better get out of here. I have to find Finn before things get really messy. Thanks for confirming my suspicions, mate.”

“Wait!” Ben found himself calling out to her. 

Rey turned, one eyebrow cocked curiously. She waited patiently while Ben mustered the courage to continue. 

“Can I...can I go with you?” The last thing he wants to do is stay in his blood covered bathroom.

“Why would you want to do that?” She asked, not unkindly. 

He shrugged, looking down at the dried pools of blood below his feet. “I can’t stay here. There’s really nothing here for me but I reminder that I can’t even die correctly.” 

“It’s not just you,” she starts but Ben waves his hand.

“I know. But maybe I could be useful. You know, undead human,” he tries to make it sound casually, but it feels anything but to say it aloud.

To his surprise she giggles, actually giggles. “I’m immortal and a god, I doubt there’s anything you can do that I can’t. But alright, it’s been a while since I’ve spent any time with a human,” her eyes sparkled, then she held out her hand to him. 

He crossed to her and took the offered hand. “I’m Ben, by the way.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, “Good to meet you, Ben. Hang on tight and don’t let go. I’ve never traveled this way with a human before.”

He gave her a look of confusion half a second before she pulled him into the shadows of the room and his bathroom disappeared around them.


End file.
